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October 10, 2005
Oh, Sweet Lord, the Boredom!
It's all or nothing around here, People.
My ankle? Still swollen to citrus-fruit-proportions, but now it's more in the tangelo range instead of grapefruit, so that's good. Sore, but improving. I can walk without clinging, Spiderman-like, to the wall. Now I just lurch around the house like the undead.
I also seem to have contracted Liver's Revenge - a nasty cough that develops when one's liver is perturbed and gets the lungs in cahoots on its revenge plans.
I'll tell you a sick little secret: I used to like being sick. I loved having an excuse to do absolutely nothing. The opportunity to spend a day lying in bed, watching crappy talk shows, reading, and snoozing was worth the price of a headache cough or, perhaps, even a little dry heaving.
I don't feel that way anymore. For the past two days I have stayed in my pajamas, neglected my basic hygeine, and catnapped, all in the name of "getting better". And while my physical health has improved, I am so ever-loving bored I can't hardly stand myself.
That will change shortly, I'm sure. Jess arrives on Thursday. Friday we're heading to Cyn and Sara's for a big Stonecutters gathering, which also features - but isn't limited to - Sal, Kara and Beege.
And a week after that? I'll be turning 33. As some of you may be aware, I have birthday issues. Specifically, I have really bad birthdays. My long streak of birthday bad luck began when my mother went into labor with me during my uncle's wake. My previous 32 birthdays have included four deaths, two dead pets, a car wreck, a bout of pneumonia, an ugly break-up, two instances of friend drama, a couple of years of parental drama, and enough neuroses and anxiety attacks to keep a good shrink bogged in paperwork for years. And that's just what it says on the invitation for the party I'm throwing on my birthday. That's right - my birthday, the day I usually reserve for sitting in my closet, listening to Pink Floyd and weeping*, this year is going to be spent with my friends, at my house. Which means this will be the year my house bursts into flames with all my friends in it. And that is anything but boring.
*I would never actually spend my birthday sitting in the closet, listening to Pink Floyd and weeping. I fucking hate Pink Floyd. I would listen to Gwar.
Posted by Robin at October 10, 2005 05:55 PM
Comments
That sounds like a great party! It would be worth the risk.
Posted by: Joie at October 10, 2005 09:51 PM
Oh, man, can I come? I am bored out of my skull. Incessant Rainy Season has begun here, and I won't see the sun again until sometime next July (guess where I live- I'll give you a hint, we don't sleep very often). Anyway, I haven't adjusted yet. I am dying and being held hostage in my house by my kids. I'd love to come to a house burning party! The excitement, the drama! I'm getting tingles just thinking about it!
Posted by: Eulallia at October 10, 2005 10:46 PM
um, if we're gonna burn down the house, can you make sure we all get out safely and stuff? 'cause i don't wanna die right now. :)
Posted by: kara at October 10, 2005 11:00 PM
She's not joking folks. Her birthdays suck - take it from someone who's witnessed a few of the blowups. I love you, Poppy, but for the first time in 7 months I'm happy to be in DC. Stay 32!!!!!!!
Posted by: Big Daddy B at October 11, 2005 05:58 AM
I wish you luck and a very happy birthday.
You should write a book about your birthdays alone.
I think that would be a great idea.
Posted by: Meghan at October 11, 2005 08:48 AM
What if we celebrated next weekend? Mayhap that would fool the bad birthday gremlin you seem to have been born with?
Posted by: beege at October 11, 2005 09:48 AM
33 Birthdays.
Written by the crazy lady who survived them.
Also an epilogue of recipes from said b-days.
Posted by: mindy at October 11, 2005 01:43 PM
Beege, if you want to celebrate my birthday this weekend, I cannot be held responsible for any lightening strikes, disease outbreaks, fires or alien invasions that might occur.
Big Daddy B and his partner Gabe are having a commitment ceremony on the beach in Cabo two days before my birthday. Lucky for them I won't be there. Otherwise, they would get hit with a hurricane. I can pretty much guarantee it.
Posted by: Poppy at October 11, 2005 03:05 PM
You hate Pink Floyd too. Poppy, I have found new reason to adore you.
Posted by: DixiePeach at October 11, 2005 05:07 PM
Dodged that bullet! Relieved to hear we're just missing the birthday tragedy of the year - we all need to get home safely.
I love how many Stonecutter-bloggers there are - one might almost think it was a blogger gathering, but no.
Posted by: jess at October 12, 2005 12:08 AM
